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Elliot woke to bright lights and a headache, lying on a stiff mattress in a very white room. He was at a loss about what had happened until he gingerly turned his head to the side, and found Hubcap sitting there with his hands full of yarn.
“Guh?” Elliot managed.
The robot beamed at him. “You live! Marvelous. I will make this into a stylish sling instead of a fancy tie. You will love it.”
Elliot blinked, trying to focus on the mass of color. “It’s pink.”
Hubcap leveled a knitting needle at his face. “You will love it, I said.”
“All right, fine, I’ll love it.” Elliot let his head roll back to center. “So, I remember some frenzy happening earlier,” he said with false casualness. “How did the others do, then?”
“Oh, in typical foolish human fashion,” Hubcap said, knitting away. “There were bruises aplenty, and meatheads in the plantlife, and running rabbits like you making life difficult.”
“But did anyone die?” Elliot clarified. “Are they okay?”
“Okay enough, thanks to me,” the robot said. “And one other unflappable human female. She was quite heroic, and should be getting her choice of mates now.” He gazed down at Elliot with a grandmotherly expression. “I tried to set her up with you, but she is wired different and wouldn’t have it. So we’ll just have to find you a nice mate from somewhere else.”
“Wait, what?” Elliot started to shake his head but thought better of it. “Why are we suddenly trying to find me a mate?”
Hubcap waved a hand. “So you can settle down, live the quiet life, and follow your biological urge to procreate. Or just spend time with a like-minded female for mutual squishy biological urges.”
“Um. Thanks,” Elliot said slowly. “No hurry there. I have plenty of other things to occupy my time right now. Speaking of which, do you know how long I’m supposed to be here?”
The robot raised a bedpan. “As long as it takes,” he intoned. “I have been instructed to assist you with all manner of embarrassing fleshy things.”
“Oh great,” Elliot said. “I feel better already. In fact, I think I can go home right now. Thanks anyway!”
Hubcap set down the bedpan, unimpressed. “Touch your toes,” he instructed, going back to his knitting.
Elliot tried. He lifted his head from the pillow, reached for his feet — one foot was in a cast and one in a sock — then everything hurt and he found himself curled on his side, never wanting to move again. “Ah!”
“Oh darn, I was hoping you would do some projectile vomiting,” the robot said mildly. “That’s always entertaining when I don’t have to clean it up.”
“Your bedside manner sucks,” Elliot gasped, trying to straighten out.
“Yes, I know,” Hubcap said. “I traded that bit of programming for a better knowledge of dirty limericks.” He set down his knitting and began to recite. “There once was a man named Enis—”
“Stop that.”
“Killjoy.” Hubcap said, knitting needles clicking away.
“Where did you learn to do that, anyway?” Elliot asked, feeling like he had missed a substantial chunk of time.
“Here.”
“When?”
“Half an hour ago.”
“Why?”
“Because boredom is boring, and the lady in the next room felt like teaching me,” Hubcap replied, still knitting. “Also, I think the nurses were getting tired of my artistic endeavors.”
“Do I even want to know?”
“Probably not,” Hubcap said. “At any rate, they took away the interesting stuff. And you just can’t make a proper voodoo doll out of strained peas.”
“I bet you can’t,” Elliot said. “So, how long have I been here?”
“Overnight,” the robot told him. “You slept through the fun times of rescue car and long journey. But you did not poop yourself, so I am grateful for that.”
“What? Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know; you’ll have to ask the smelly individuals who did,” Hubcap said. “My guess is some fleshy mammal defense mechanism. If you are afraid, and there is a predator about to eat you, then you will be less appetizing if you smell like poo. Also, pooping makes you lighter, and thus better suited to running away at great rates of speed.”
“I can tell you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“Such things do go through your mind when you are busy scrubbing human stench from your pristine robot self.”
A nurse poked his head through the door and told Hubcap that the communication lines were open for the call he’d requested.
The robot thanked him. “I’m on my way.”
Elliot lifted his head again. “What call?” he asked. “Is it about the show?”
“No, unrelated,” Hubcap assured him. “Don’t worry your dented little head about it. The show is the most popular thing on the screens right now, and we’re guaranteed many seasons of adventures. Space Fashion will be jealous forever. I will return soon, and tell you about everything you missed. Like my Pied Piper run through the compound.”
“Your what? Don’t leave me with that!” Elliot protested.
Hubcap just waved and left the room.
The nurse was lingering in the doorway, and thankfully he had some sort of answer for Elliot’s questions. “Yeah, the scientists came up with something to clear the air of whatever causes the frenzy,” he said. “Your pal there was running around everywhere with it earlier. I’m not sure how it works, but there haven’t been any frenzy attacks indoors today.”
Elliot bombarded the man with questions while Hubcap’s footsteps tapped away down the hall.
––––––––
Hubcap grinned to himself at Elliot’s consternation, then turned his thoughts toward the conversation to come. It hadn’t been simple to arrange, and he would be paying a chunk of salary to cover the transmission costs, but it seemed worth it. No one on this planet would have the answers he wanted.
In the same small room that Vic had used to call headquarters, Hubcap sat down in front of a screen and keyed in the connection number. The call took a few seconds to go through while the signal bounced between satellites and space stations. But it had been prearranged, and someone picked up on the other side. A face he hadn’t seen in years appeared on the screen.
“Hubcap, old chum, it’s been ages! How goes the excitement?” The butler model looked unchanged, with perhaps a touch-up to his caucasian paint job. His black metal hair was as slick and stylish as ever. There was a splash of what might have been applesauce on his ear. The room behind him was full of sunlit walls and ritzy paintings.
Hubcap smiled. “Hey, Fishkicker. The excitement is mostly settled, though I shouldn’t give anything away until those next episodes air.”
“Oh, of course,” Fishkicker said. “I’ve arranged a viewing party for the big one. The teaser segments are quite something! I must say, we’re all very proud.”
“Thank you,” Hubcap said, without his usual bluster. “I try.”
“Well, you most certainly succeed!” Fishkicker laughed. “A new alien race! And by the looks of it, you played a big part in their discovery!”
Hubcap nodded. “And in the frenzy solution. Has that hit the news yet? Never mind, I shouldn’t tell.”
“The what? Oh my. That is monumental! You’ll have to tell me everything once the official channels have had their go at it.”
“I’ll make sure to call you,” Hubcap promised.
Fishkicker wiped the applesauce off his ear with a handkerchief. “So why the call? I assume not to talk about world-shaking discoveries.”
Hubcap gathered his thoughts. “I wanted your perspective on something,” he said. “How many humans have you buried?”
The butler robot blinked. “Three generations,” he said. “All good people, and all in their time. Why do you ask?”
Hubcap paused before answering. “How do you deal with it? Knowing that they’ll keep dying while you continue on unchanged?”
A look of pity appeared on the butler’s metal face. “My dear boy,” he said gently. “Your programming didn’t plan for this, did it? You were supposed to rescue strangers and never see them again. I was made to shepherd a specific set of humans through their entire lives, as long as they’d have me, with the knowledge that their lives would end but my service would not. There’s always another generation.”
Hubcap looked away. “I’m not serving a family,” he said. “I have friends who can’t be replaced. And I just met some new ones who I know I’ll never see again. But I think I’m starting to get it. The new ones seem more at peace with the idea than most humans I’ve known.”
Fishkicker nodded. “Some people certainly are. They’ve done what they set out to do, in regard to career, or family, or experiences, and they can move on with a clear conscience.”
Hubcap thought of the new clutches of eggs in the river. “That sounds about right.”
“I’ve actually had a child express sympathy for me, if that makes it better.”
Hubcap looked back. “What? Why?”
“Because I won’t have children of my own, and I won’t grow old in the company of a spouse.” Hubcap made a static snort, and the butler laughed. “I know, that’s not something that I’m hardwired to desire like most humans do. But that child did feel acutely sorry for me, and I imagine she would for you as well.” Hubcap was silent while Fishkicker continued. “You asked for perspective; I give you Kabira-Marie, age nine. It’s worth considering who’s truly the fortunate one.”
Hubcap breathed an electronic sigh. “Thanks,” he said. “That does help. Now what’s new back on good ol’ Earth? What’s everybody doing these days?”
They talked for a long time about the other robots who Fishkicker had mentored into human society, including many of Hubcap’s fellow rescue bots. Some had pursued careers in off-planet exploration, while others had gone into construction. One was a metalworker. Three were animal control specialists. Five had stayed in search-and-rescue, though as contracted employees rather than tools. Only Hubcap had gone into television, though two others were making names for themselves in robotic sports.
There was much to talk about. It was only when Fishkicker’s human family (including the thrower of applesauce) returned from their outing that they had to wrap up the call. Hubcap signed off in a better mood than he’d been in for some time. He walked back to the small hospital room on light feet.
Elliot was still waiting for more of an explanation. Hubcap obliged and went into detail about the faux-pheromones that the scientists had come up with overnight, and the swarm of invisible creatures that had gathered when he ran around the compound waving the sample like a torch.
“Then I threw it into the test chamber,” he concluded. “And shut the door on that mess. I can’t promise there’s not a stray beastie hiding somewhere, but no sign of one yet.”
“Fantastic.” Elliot let his head drop back to the pillow, wincing and visibly regretting it. “So how do we keep more from getting in?”
Hubcap waved a hand. “The engineers are working with the science types to build better airlocks. They’re hoping to make some sort of detection system so they can see the buggers, but that could take a while. I think they’re doing autopsies on the dead aliens to figure out how they can sense them.” He paused, fighting disapproval. “But, being dead, they shouldn’t mind,” he finally said.
“This will help a lot of people,” Elliot said gently.
“Yes yes, we are grand saviors of humankind,” Hubcap said, shaking it off. “Frenzy traps will be sold to all and sundry, and we will be hailed as conquering heroes. Especially once the government people finish all their scanning and interviewing, and agree that we did good by making friends with the aliens without disrupting their way of life.”
Elliot gave him a sharp look. “Are they here now?”
Hubcap waved a hand. “Arrived last night. Even with the high-end scanning ships, they probably would have missed the underwater cities if we hadn’t told them where to look.” He shook his head, unimpressed.
A knock on the door preceded Vic into the room. She wore a concerned expression, and also a green floral-print shirt that was a striking amount of color compared to her usual work clothes. Today was a day for schmoozing instead of filming.
“How do you feel?” she asked Elliot.
“Could be worse,” Elliot said with a weak smile. “Glad to be here, really.”
The director nodded. “And we’re glad you’re here too. That was a dramatic end to your never-caught-frenzy streak.” She rolled her eyes ever so slightly, to Hubcap’s approval.
Elliot chuckled at himself. “Yeah, so that’s what it’s like. Can’t say I recommend the experience.”
“Just wait ’til the painkillers fade,” Vic said with a wide grin. “The SedEgg marks itch.” She reached up to tap over her own shoulder.
“Great.” Elliot sank down on the bed. “That’s something to look forward to.”
Vic leaned against the doorframe, still smiling. “Well, the good news is that you may never catch frenzy again. We’re getting it figured out, and it’s pretty much agreed that the whole thing originated here.”
“Really?” Elliot moved like he wanted to sit up. “For certain?”
Hubcap gave Vic his full attention.
“Yup!” she said. “This planet was settled ten years ago. How long has the mystery plague been ravaging ships and stations?”
“About ten years,” Elliot beat Hubcap to it, voice soft with amazement. “So I guess some of the air creatures left the planet with the first ships?”
“Looks that way,” Vic said. “They never made it to Earth because the quarantine filters there are legendary. Instead they’ve been surviving off humans in space, rather than their intended symbiotes.”
“Wow,” Elliot said, settling back. “We’re going to be part of history in a big way.”
Hubcap nodded. “Yes, and it’s good that we got our footage before the overlords took over. It will be in high demand. We should be getting more money.”
“Meaning we will?” Elliot said with a glance at Vic. “Or we just should?”
Vic waggled a hand. “Jury’s still out. I’m working on it.”
Hubcap inclined his head to its most arrogant angle. “They’ll come around. We’re worth a raise or five.”
“I won’t argue that,” Elliot said.
“Now we just have to find you a nice mate,” Hubcap replied.
“Not right now we don’t,” Elliot said. “What about you? Looking for a nice girl robot?”
Hubcap snorted. “You know better than that.”
The human grinned. “Yeah I do. It’s still a funny idea.”
“Not as funny as your face,” Hubcap said. “Hey, we should find nice mates for the camera crew too.” He turned to Vic. “Do you think we could get good dowry money if we married Dale off? We could use it to hire a proper robotic camera handler.”
Vic just shook her head.
Elliot groaned. “This conversation has gone in an absurd direction, and I hereby petition for a new one.”
“All right,” Vic said. “What’s your opinion on the best name for the colortalkers? We haven’t had a chance to ask them what they’d prefer, and the name that’s getting a surprising amount of traction now is ‘Mayfolk.’” She made disdainful finger quotes.
“What? May? Like merfolk of the spring?”
“No, like mayflies,” Vic clarified. “Because they only live a day in their adult form, just like mayflies on Earth.”
“I see,” Elliot said. “I think I like ‘colortalkers’ better.”
“I think they should be named after me,” Hubcap suggested.
“That reminds me,” Vic said, ignoring him completely. “I heard that there will be a crew of robots on the next shuttle, to help with whatever this station turns into — maybe just a jetpod harvesting operation, for trading with the colortalkers. There will also be swarms of human professionals, of course: diplomats, biochemists, ecologists. Even some linguistic specialists to study that color language and knot-tying writing. But there will definitely be a good number of robots.”
“As it should be!” Hubcap exclaimed, hands in the air.
“Oh good!” Elliot said at the same time. “That’s been a long time in coming.”
“Yes, and it is all thanks to me,” Hubcap said with a hand to his chest. “None of you human types died of frenzy while I’ve been here. Or of anything else that I could prevent.”
“Well done, you,” Elliot told him.
“Yes, well done me. You helped, of course. As did the others.”
Vic smiled. “How gracious of you.”
Elliot waved a hand like a conductor. “I’m sure there will be parades in your honor. What would we do without you?”
“Probably die foaming at the mouth,” Hubcap said. “Up a tree, head stuck in a knothole. Pooping your pants in terror.”
“You paint quite the picture,” Elliot said with a tolerant smile.
“Don’t I though?” Hubcap asked. “I am an impressive weaver of words. I should be a storyteller on the rooftops, with my dulcet tones echoing out over the landscape for all to hear and appreciate. It would be glorious.”
“I’m sure it would,” Elliot said. “What else could you ever want to do with your new status as Robot Beloved By All?”
“Pssh, that’s not new,” Hubcap said.
Someone called for Vic from the hallway, and she left with a promise to return with updates.
The door closed. Hubcap picked up his knitting. “What I do want to do,” he told Elliot, “Is get my trustworthy hands on a translation device of my own, to go out and socialize with the natives some more.” He broke into a grin. “And I get to, since the swimmers won’t raise their heads above water for anyone but me.”
Elliot shook his head. “Try not to abuse your power,” he said as Hubcap let out a maniacal cackle.
“Oh, I’ll set them up with Owen soon enough,” Hubcap said, relaxing in his chair. “I don’t want to be stuck here forever, and he’ll make a fine spokesperson, along with ProudLee and whatever alien experts get posted here. They can set up trade agreements with all the towns, in properly respectful fashion.”
“Respectful, yes. Unlike other people we could name.”
“Oh, guess what!” Hubcap told him. “Scuttlebutt says Bhandari the Blowhard is getting fired! Or, y’know, forcibly retired.”
Elliot nodded in approval. “Exciting developments all around.”
“Oh yes. This is quite the place to be! I’m sure we’ll be hustled off sooner than we’d like, but as long as I get to swim through the underwater town first, I’ll call it a win.”
“That does sound like fun,” Elliot said.
Hubcap patted the convalescing human on the arm. “I will bring you along as soon as you are done being broken.”
“Thanks,” Elliot said, gazing at the cast. “It’ll be a while.”
“Oh, not all that long. I’m sure the aliens will find a wheelchair fascinating.”
Elliot looked at Hubcap in surprise. “What, you’re not going to insist I stay in bed until all my fleshy injuries are healed?”
“Why waste time?” Hubcap said. “If someone who lives only a day above water can enjoy life, so can you. It’s just a broken ankle and a concussion. And various cuts. And spectacular bruises. You know, nothing serious.”
Elliot cocked his head at his friend. “Does this mean you’ll be harping at me less to be careful I don’t break my fragile self?”
“Oh no, I’ll still do that,” Hubcap said. “You are sadly frail, lacking all the benefits of a wonderful robot body like my own. But I see no reason for that to ruin the fun.”
“Well, all right then,” Elliot said with a slow smile. “I can live with that.”
“Yes, we will go out and see the sights in your wheelchair,” Hubcap said. “I will try not to push you across too many rocks on the way to the underwater city. We will explore this exciting alien world, and I will protect you from the dangers of the now less-mysterious space frenzy.”
“And I’ll protect you from the dangers of modesty.”
“Darn right,” Hubcap said. “That stuff’s to be avoided at all costs.”